To the Team Behind 'A Minecraft Movie': Do You Hate Gamers?

Hello Peliplaters!

While not quite sinking to the depth of The Room, A Minecraft Movie stands as the crowning achievement of bad video game adaptations in the past decade. Some viewers attribute its paradoxical low ratings againts its high box office performance to gaming fans paying for nostalgia. But no, that's not it! This movie wasn't made to please either Minecraft players or non-players—it was made to feed the production team's own arrogance.

I have many questions for them. After leaving the theater, what troubled me most wasn't the clichéd plot or awkward dialogue—it was their portrayal of Steve as a stereotypical nerd. The main plot follows tired "nerd psychology": misfits who can't fit into reality find their talents valued in another world and choose to stay there for glory. Yet any fan of "isekai" stories knows that the appeal of alternate worlds isn't about a loser protagonist changing his fate—it's about the infinite possibilities these new worlds offer. くそ!

I'm truly confused. Does the production team hate gamers, so much so that they chose to focus on portraying tired stereotypes of nerds and cast two bearded men in their fifties as leads? (No offence, they're excellent actors, but the script and casting choices miss the mark). They even have these men perform embarrassing actions better suited to middle school students and strip them of any meaningful character development. How is this anything but a biased, out-of-context representation of gamers? In the ending, the characters recite post-game poetry and Steve is forced to return to the real world to "change reality." This reflects the team's arrogant presumption that such moves can capture the game's spirit. But Steve was never meant to be a real person—he's an avatar shared by millions of players. The team has condescendingly suggested that players immerse themselves in the game world because they're ineffective in reality. But have they considered that gamers don't actually eat electronic mutton chops in real life? In fact, they work hard to pay for games.

Yes, I understand adapting Minecraft is challenging. As a pure sandbox game without its own storyline—unlike Resident Evil or Silent Hill with their established, market-tested universes—it presents unique hurdles. However, what's unforgivable is how the team has ignored the countless passionate players who've created mods and fan stories over the past decade. Couldn't these players have inspired them? I seriously doubt if they've ever truly experienced the joy of the original game, since the movie's plot twists merely imitate popular gameplay mechanics and player memes.

Some kind-hearted fans had argued in defense of the team that the movie faithfully recreated the game's settings. But that's precisely the problem—the movie is so faithful that there's no originality. If they'd experienced even the slightest fraction of the original game's fun, they'd know how much players despise conformity. The team simply copied game mechanics and had characters explain them through dialogue. This lazy approach is like teaching chess to grandmasters for veteran players, and for non-players, it's like trading with dishonest brokers. With countless expert players sharing free videos online, why would anyone pay to watch A Minecraft Movie?

Sigh. It fails not because adaptation is challenging, but because it lacks sincerity. Consider Tetris that was inspired by the simple block-sorting game: wasn't it an even trickier adaptation than Minecraft? Yet its creative team succeeded by weaving together the game's historical impact, cross-cultural barriers, the creator's compelling story and innovative game-inspired visuals. They crafted something fresh that appealed to both gamers and non-gamers alike. Though it's unfortunate the film didn't get a theatrical release, I'd have rushed to see it on the big screen if it had. The lesson? World-building challenges of simplicity or complexity don't excuse poor adaptations. Just look at Ready Player One, which built an entirely new gaming universe while paying tribute to countless games and films. It earned genuine respect from both gaming and movie communities. The common thread between Tetris and Ready Player One is simple: their creators genuinely loved both gaming and filmmaking.

If the high box office numbers of A Minecraft Movie stem from players paying for nostalgia, this represents a tragedy, not a success. We don't immerse ourselves in games and movies to escape reality—we do it to express our love for experiences beyond the ordinary world. The film's production team has dismissed our passion, created a terrible movie that misrepresents us, and yet we still fill theater seats—not because we're gullible, but because they're ignorant and they fail to understand us.